


The Breaking of the Chains

by NaomiPhoenix



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Chains, M/M, Sith magic, imagery may be disturbing, son of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiPhoenix/pseuds/NaomiPhoenix
Summary: No one can keep the son of the Force trapped forever





	The Breaking of the Chains

Darth Vader lay in a crumpled heap where the Emperor’s Force-lightning had dropped him. Unmoving and silent, the lights of his suit gone out. The Emperor’s evil laughter filled the silence which should have echoed with the sound of the Sith Lord’s infamous breathing. Nearby, having been brought to their knees by the Emperor, his son, and his loyal Admiral could only stare in disbelief.  
  
Until the Emperor approached. “And now, young Skywalker, you will take your father’s place by my side.” He turned on the other. “But you Admiral - you should have chosen where your loyalties lay far more wisely. What a waste of an otherwise gifted mind. Wilhuff Tarkin spoke so highly of you to me. You would have done well for yourself - if only you had been loyal to me.”  
  
“I stand by my choice,” Piett responded with all defiance as he truly did stood.  
  
“And I will never serve you,” Luke added, standing with him.  
  
A thump - and the sound of plastisteel dragged over durasteel interrupted what was certain to have been a witty and triumphant response from the Emperor.  
  
Like a puppet on strings, Vader stirred.  
  
“My Lord,” said Piett in a hopeful whisper. There came no response. Only more broken awkward movements, like a poorly handled marionette, until Lord Vader stood gracelessly on both feet.  
  
There was silence. Not even the Emperor could bring himself to speak to the deranged sight Vader made.  
  
Then the Force screamed.  
  
Luke and Piett, who already had their backs to the wall where not thrown far, but the Emperor, stood much closer, bore the brunt of the outwards explosion of pressure come from Vader. Golden light, as bright as any yellow sun left them all blinded until it dimmed at the source.  
  
A man stood in front of Vader. He glowed as though light shone from within him. Smoky black chains held him fast to the corpse suit of Darth Vader. He fought and twisted against them, his voice, or rather voices communicated how fiercely he strained against them.  
  
By the will of the Force, Luke intercepted the lightning with his lightsaber, as the Emperor struck out at the newcomer.  
  
“No, No, NO!” the old man flew into a rage, striking out repeatedly, only to be intercepted by the green blade and a wilful young man. “This cannot be! I will not allowed this!”  
  
“I will be free! Your chains can no longer hold me,” the newcomer countered and the chain, slowly but surely began to give. Piett, on instinct, rushed forth to aid him, fearlessly taking the chains of the dark side in hand and pulling with all of his might. And it was that chain which gave first. “Help me, please. Keep going. Help me be truly free, Piett.” Whole and unscarred, Firmus Piett had not immediately recognised his lover's face. But those voices, the way they spoke his name.  
  
“My Lord.” His heart swelled with joy to see him whole.  
  
“Move away from him! You will obey me!” the Emperor lashed out again and again, but dared not approach. Fear was etched on every line of the Emperor’s face, and there was innumerable lines to be seen. His actions now were of a dead man walking, desperate not to go into the night quietly. Caught up before in the confidence and assuredness of his victory, Palpatine had strayed too far from any source of aid. His once powerful words failed him now and he could no longer voice even the simplest of threats, as chain after chain of dark side magic gave way under Piett’s hands; as his every frantic strike with Force-lightning was duly diverted by the son of his former apprentice.  
  
Palpatine’s failure was inevitable. He had written his end into his own designs, without ever having realised it. No one could keep the son of the Force in chains forever. Nor any sith magic to keep him from the ones he loved. There was no dignity in how Palpatine met his end.  
  
As the last of the chains of the sith magic which had entrapped and held the son of the Force in the suit and in the dark side for decades gave way to a lovers touch, Palpatine found himself in turn, wrapped in chains of the light. As his chains had once squeezed out the light, these now squeezed out the dark. And the dark side, which of made of him, succumbed. With a shriek, with frightened pain-filled squeals of agony, he cried out his last and nothing was left of him. Not even a nexus to mark where he made his final, useless stand.  
  
‘ _My chains are broken. The Force has set me free.’_


End file.
